Dragon Soul (15 page)

“I see,” Badger said. “Forgive me, but I still don’t understand exactly how
this
scenario in particular would be pleasing.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling a little stupid now that I had to come out and say it. “Well. She was always telling me I should find a nice soldier and settle down. Figure this is about as close as I’m ever going to get, so it would’ve been nice if she’d known. That’s all.”

“Sounds like my mother,” Badger muttered darkly.

“Probably not,” I reassured him, the fish in my belly making me bold. “Her kids never would’ve let me hit them in the head with rocks. You develop reflexes after so many beatings.”

“Doubtless,” Badger said, looking nonplussed.

“She really walloped me good last time,” I said, miming the action and instantly regretting it when the blight in my palm flared up.

“Does it hurt?” Badger asked.

I looked down at the compass, staring glumly at the hands. They hadn’t moved much in the past two days—pointing furiously in the same direction, then suddenly giving me nothing to go on at all. It was like they were trying to drive me crazy. “It does and it doesn’t,” I answered at length. “I mean, it’s
fucking weird
. And sometimes it throbs, I guess.”

“You probably can’t put it in cold water, can you?” Badger said thoughtfully.

“Don’t particularly want to see what’d happen if I try,” I said.

After looking ugly and thoughtful in the firelight for a moment, Badger held up his hands. “Truce,” he said. “For long enough to let me look at it, at least.”

“Why, are you some kind of magician?” I was skeptical, but I guess I also was a little bit lonely. It wasn’t nice not having anyone to talk to, even the old woman, who spoke to me only to tell me exactly what I
was doing wrong. “Sure, let’s make peace. You can look at it all you want, but all you’ll get is nightmares.”

“Probably.” He came toward me with the easy movements of a trained panther and took my hand in his.

“Well, there it is,” I said. “Glorious, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer me—probably because he thought I was being flippant, which I was, but the reason wasn’t that I was some ignorant backwater mudraker. Sure, I’d raked some mud in my time, but I had thoughts and ideas and plans for the future; I was smart and I made investments. Plans had gone a little awry, but they were still in the realm of
a little bit
fixable.

“Skin’s red here,” Badger said. “Has it always been like that?”

“Yeah,” I told him, and then, “Well, no. Not
always
. I figured it was just angry at first, what with having a big metal compass jammed in there. But really, it’s anyone’s guess. Just figured the coincidence was a little too…coincidental.”

“Understandable,” Badger conceded, but he still didn’t look entirely satisfied, which I took as my cue to keep talking. Or maybe I was just feeling twitchy ’cause a strange soldier was holding my hand and I still wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t gonna cut it off and run away with it.

“Afterward it even started getting itchy, like it was healing,” I said. “Only it’s been getting worse instead of better. Damn thing drives me nuts when I’m trying to sleep. Not that having
you
breathing down my neck helped me any with that, either.”

“My apologies,” said Badger, only he said it like he was talking to my hand, turning it this way and that in the firelight. I didn’t know what he thought he was gonna find, or why he’d even suggested this in the first place. Maybe he was just that bored.

I was feeling a lot more charitable with cooked fish in my belly, but I’d still never been what anyone could call
patient
. The only thing that’d ever shut me up for long had been the old woman and her stick, and she was leagues away now, if not more. I let my friend the Badger carry out his examination in relative silence—since it was obvious that was what he wanted—for as long as I could before I had to start talking again. Things were getting too quiet.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” I piped up. “Dragon fever? Am I a medical miracle?”

“You’re certainly…something,” Badger said. It was one of those things that sounded like a compliment only it really wasn’t, and I had to give him credit for not being a big, dumb lug like I’d thought at first. He was quicker than your average grunt, even if he wasn’t that talkative. “I never claimed to be a doctor, though I might have an idea as to your complaint about the itching.”

“Share the wealth, then,” I said, trying to hide my sudden interest.

“Wait here,” he said, and released my hand. Without another word—like maybe giving me a hint as to where he was fucking going—he stood up and walked off into the rocks, back held straight like a soldier’s.

I was going to have to talk to him about that. If he was meant to be traveling disguised as common folk, then I was going to have to teach him how to walk like he’d been carrying the heavy burden of poverty all his life. Soldiers worked themselves just about as hard as poor people, except they had the muscles and the instinctive self-importance to hold their bodies rigid.

We didn’t.

I leaned myself back against one of the large, flat rocks littering the area. The problem with nearing desert country was that it was too hot to spit during the day and cold enough to freeze your tits off at night. I didn’t like a country that couldn’t make up its mind one way or another. At least the rocks held the heat well enough—they could make a pretty decent bed if you weren’t soft, which I wasn’t. The skin around my compass-hand was looking angry again; too much attention getting it excited, or maybe I was just thinking about it too much. I rubbed at it, gingerly, trying not to feel like I was rapidly approaching my wits’ end.

The heat from the fire had only made it worse, and I wasn’t feeling very good about having shown it to the Badger right off the bat like that. Something about the look on his face when he saw it had pissed me right off. It was the same way most people looked at an old man with a cane or a three-legged dog, and I wasn’t either of those. Never would be. That was something I could be thankful for.

But I damned sure didn’t need any pity from a man too stupid to follow the likes of me without getting nabbed. Sure enough, I could hear his footsteps coming back, like he wasn’t even trying to hide them anymore. I guessed he probably wasn’t, now that the jig was up.

“Take this,” Badger said, kneeling on the dirt beside me. His sleeves were rolled up and the front of his shirt was covered in rock dust like he’d taken a tumble, or maybe had to squeeze through something real narrow. In his hand was some kind of plant: a bunch of green, spiky stalks that looked like they were oozing a little.

“Gee, thanks,” I said. “Just what a girl always dreams of. Should I keep it in water? I don’t have a vase on me, but I’m sure I could find a hollow rock—”

“Aloe,” he said, breaking one of the stalks in half and squeezing out some kind of goo. If that was supposed to encourage me, then he was way off base. “It grows in hot, sandy climates. Soothes bug bites better than anything, so I assumed it would help your problem as well.”

I blinked. “That plant’s gonna cure my compass problem?”

“Give me your hand,” Badger answered, reaching forward to take it.

I let him. I probably could’ve gotten one good smack in with the compass, but I figured I’d done enough damage to his head for now. And besides, we’d called a truce. He turned my palm up and squeezed the goo around where it was red, using the plant to spread it on top of the angriest spots and rub it into my skin. The crawling itch in my hand began to fade. I would’ve
cried
with the relief of it if I’d been alone, but I wasn’t, so I pursed my lips and scowled instead.

Badger picked up another leaf and squeezed it on, being real thorough about the whole thing. I closed my eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of a hand that was a little cold and sticky but no longer driving me fucking batty.

“Guess soldiers know a thing or two after all,” I murmured, more comfortable than I’d ever dared to imagine I might be.

“Well, my mother imparted more than just the occasional beating,” Badger said,
almost
smiling, like maybe that’d been a joke. I was surprised he’d bothered to listen in the first place, let alone that he’d remembered long enough to refer back to it later.

“You must’ve been firstborn,” I said. “They always miss out on the fun stuff.”

“First of four,” Badger said thoughtfully. “I wasn’t aware I’d made it obvious.”

“Only to someone from a big family,” I told him, flexing my hand happily. “Don’t worry. As far as I’m concerned you’ve done ’em proud tonight.”

“I’m glad it’s working,” Badger replied. He threw the empty skins onto the fire, which crackled sickly in response. “You should remember what they look like so you can keep an eye out.”

That was the end of talking about our families, I figured. It was about as clear as a command. That was fine. Probably for the best. No point getting too close to the enemy, and all that good sense.

“Spiky little green things,” I answered. “I got it under control. When I find the motherfucker that did this to me again I’m going to show
him
what it feels like to have foreign objects jammed into uncomfortable parts of his body.”

Badger snorted like maybe he was laughing, and I cracked an eye open to check.

“Didn’t know they bred a sense of humor into soldiers these days,” I said.

He sighed, settling back—or at least, looking as settled as he ever could. “My attitude toward our mutual acquaintance is an exception to the general rule.”

“That fucking bastard,” I agreed. “Whoever thought
he
was worthy of a promotion ought to be kicking themselves right about now.”

Badger made a noise like there was something stuck in his throat. “Understand, it’s a rather difficult time for the empire, at present,” he explained, slowly, drawing each word out as though his honor depended on the enunciation. “Our great emperor has…and now the capital is beset by a diplomatic envoy from our conquerors. When you take into account that our magicians were all but destroyed in the final days of the war…”

“Leaves us at kind of a disadvantage, doesn’t it?” I said. The things he was saying weren’t news, by any means—enforced mourning for our great emperor aside, it was like a punch to the gut of everyone’s pride that we’d lost—but it sounded different coming from the mouth of someone who got all his information through official bulletins instead of gossip and hearsay.

“It does,” said Badger. “No one knows exactly how many survived the destruction of the dome. Very few, perhaps a dozen. Under normal circumstances, I believe the matter of the magicians
would
take precedence over all when it came to rebuilding. But the emperor has been distracted, I understand, with the delegation, and such things get swept
under the rug. As a result, those who remain are enjoying more freedom than they might otherwise have been given.”

“Freedom?” I said. “Freedom our friends in Volstov wouldn’t allow, I’d wager.”

“They…” Badger said, trailing off again.

“Huh,” I said. Why wasn’t I surprised the guy was involved in something shady as shit? I looked down at my hand, where the itch had faded but the skin was still red, like I couldn’t fool
it
with some dumb plant. “So this guy’s got a plan to track down the fire-breathers and no one thinks to ask
how
he wants to do it, so long as he gets it done.”

“Favorable results are very effective in silencing those who would disagree with unfavorable methods,” Badger said. There was something about the calm in his voice that made me want to clock him again. “But so long as he is successful—so long as
you
are successful—I doubt it will matter much to anyone, one way or another.”

“That’s a cold fucking way to look at life,” I protested, surprising myself a little. I wasn’t some naive kid who expected the world to be fair and just. Hell, I should’ve laughed at myself just for thinking about it. Still, being a part of it pissed me off—the first time I’d ever thought about general rights for the people, because it was my thumbs caught between the bamboo.

“It is what it is,” said Badger, turning away from me to stare into the fire. If I hadn’t seen his face before—up close and in the daylight—I would’ve assumed he was an old man now. There was something about the way he held himself, and the lack of passion in his voice when he spoke about things that ought to have fired up any young soldier: our country and patriotism and the like. He was a strange one. “I would keep an eye on that hand of yours, if I were you. Concern yourself with the things you do have control over.”

“Yeah.” I sighed, not really sure what I was supposed to do with that except agree. “I guess so.”

“If we keep on this road at this pace, we’ll reach the desert by tomorrow,” he added, tucking back against one of the bigger rocks.

“That all depends on what my friend here tells us,” I said, holding up my hand. I hadn’t missed that “we,” either. Privately, I was thinking it might not be so bad to have a partner that wasn’t stuck in my hand and could actually talk. Not that I’d ever say it out loud.

“Of course,” Badger said. “You’ll be sure to keep me informed.”

I didn’t altogether like how sure of himself he sounded, but I guessed there wasn’t much I could do about that. I faked a yawn. “If I up and leave you in the morning, you can always follow me with your great tracking skills. I’ll never know you’re still on my trail.”

“It isn’t so terrible to me,” Badger said, tone measured, “that I am not adept at sneaking around in the dark.”

“You wouldn’t last a
day
without your titles,” I told him. “Just a bit of friendly advice.”

The sound of the fire dying down began to soothe me, and I wasn’t planning on ignoring the aloe’s help. I’d take sleep where I could get it because I was starting to get crazy with how tired I was, and that wouldn’t help my case for freedom in the slightest.

“I can’t help but notice,” Badger said softly, “when I was looking at the compass…The hands aren’t moving at all, are they?”